


ropeburn and drapery

by nraycinap (orphan_account)



Category: Rope (1948)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 02:13:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21008018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/nraycinap
Summary: a short piece on phillip's thought process in the first minute or so of the movie





	ropeburn and drapery

**Author's Note:**

> just a little something ive had sitting around since?? last fall? it's still really a wip but I figured id give it a home here so I dont forget about it.

The murder was the easy part, Phillip recalled. Holding his former classmate’s body in his arms, feeling as his head rolled back and his body went limp. How Brandon, hovering next to him let out a gasp as he felt for David's heartbeat through the smooth leather of his gloves, finding nothing. At Brandon's command of 'open it', they lowered David's supple body into that dark chest which was soon closed with a gentle nothing. The lack of sound all the more condemning somehow. There should be some noise, shouldn't there? Something loud and oppressive, befitting the mood.That way at least, he could be content in the knowledge that it was done. That this was it. 

Surely this couldn't be it. 

The damned chest became a brace, keeping the two from collapsing. Yet to Philip it felt less like the chest was supporting him and more that it was dragging him down-no.. in.  
Demanding absolution. 

God.

Phillip might have laughed, Brandon probably was. Look at him. 

It's easy, of course, to talk of  
Murder. To imagine wrapping your hands around another man's throat and holding on till the only thing you feel is the beating of your own heart and the roaring in your ears. It's a type of embrace, really. Not the almost tender, almost caring, and very mean sort Brandon and him shared when Mrs. Wilson was out for the day, but an embrace nonetheless. The type of embrace that solves problems, permanently- not just a mere distraction to tide you over till the next day. The type of embrace that unites nations and brings extraordinary people to their knees. 

The stifling warmth of the late-afternoon light begging to be let through the closed curtains brought Phillip back to reality. God were the  
curtains ugly. A murky beige, too plain to be cheerful. Like an ill-fitting suit you once thought charming; distasteful and sobering, leaving you wondering what you liked about it in the first place. He and Brandon had fought over the curtains when they first moved in. Phillip had liked them then. Argued that they were warm and atmospheric. Said they drew the room together. How he bitterly regretted it now.

**Author's Note:**

> please, please, Please feel free to offer critique/writing advice! ive only recently started writing so I really appreciate any tips I can get!


End file.
